


Ain't to Proud to Beg

by Archivist613



Category: Justified, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archivist613/pseuds/Archivist613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam tries to get Dean out of his deal while flashbacks tell the story of Dean and Boyd's first hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Sweetie420 for reminding me that I still have a story waiting to be written. I apologize for the long wait and if it ever happens again send me a message to yell at me or something. So here’s a little something to get started.

       When Dean finally saw his dad in person there was no indication he had listened to any of the messages Dean had left or if he had listened, John Winchester said nothing about a case in Alabama nor did he enquire after his son’s injuries. Things became even more strained between father and son as months went by. Dean followed in the wake of his father’s drive to kill anything supernatural they could find. They were currently in Tennessee following a lead on the thing that killed Dean’s mom when Bobby called.  
John answered the phone with a muffled grunt.  
Bobby skipped the pleasantries as he always did and started talking. “I got wind of a case that might be our kind of gig, suicides that may not be suicides in Madison, Wisconsin. It’ll need a lot of legwork; I think it’ll be a good case for Dean to take point on. Kid will learn a lot by taking a case on his own.”  
      “I’ll send him up that way.” John didn’t tell Bobby that Dean had been handling cases solo for several years now. He was a good hunter. Bobby would just yell at him again call him a bad father.  
      “Take care.”  
      “Dean!” John yelled from his spot on the bed, glued in front of the TV.  
      “Yeah?” Dean poked his head out of the bathroom, shaving cream still on his chin.  
      “Bobby’s got a case for you, head to Wisconsin when you’re ready.”  
      “But, what about the lead on the thing that killed mom?” Dean said, wondering why his dad was always pushing him away.  
      “I’ll handle it.” John grunted and changed the channel.  
      “So you’re not coming with me?” Dean ducked his head in embarrassment, he had sounded so childish. “What if you need backup?” he added.  
       “It’ll be fine, you’ve handled cases on your own before and you can call me if you need anything.” John spoke without even looking at Dean.  
       “Of course sir, I’ll head out tonight.” Dean said with finality and closed the bathroom door with more force than was strictly necessary. If John Winchester noticed he said nothing. Dean was tired, he hadn’t felt up to another drive, but after that conversation with his dad he couldn’t be in the motel room with the man. Yes, he had handled hunts solo before and they had gone fine until that last one. Dean shuddered. Dean wasn’t afraid of dying, but he was afraid of being trapped. That hunt had taught him several things. Hunting alone was stupid and dangerous. And that his dad was not just a phone call away. A practical stranger hundreds of miles away had picked up the phone and came to help him before his dad did. For the first time he felt angry with his father. His hero had let him down.  
       Dean threw his things back into his duffle back and left the room. If his dad noticed he was pissed at him he still said nothing. He strode out of the parking lot toward Baby, parked at the end of the lot where no other cars could ding her. He threw his things in the backseat and got behind the wheel. For the first time Dean was hesitant about a hunt. What if he got hurt because there was no one there to watch his back? Maybe Sammy would join him; it was summer break after all, for old times’ sake. But, Sammy never answered his calls anymore.  
He pulled out his phone and called a number from his contacts. When the line was picked up Dean said, “Ever been on a hunt?”


	2. Chapter 2

Boyd had not been surprised to hear from Dean again though he was relieved that this time the kid had called him before he got into trouble instead of after. Boyd had agreed to go with him to Wisconsin for a few days in a burst of spontaneity. The call couldn’t have come at a better time either. Just yesterday Trooper Bergen had come by to ask his guys some questions. The questions sounded a little too astute for Boyd’s liking. Skinheads were good muscle, but Boyd had yet to meet one with a brain. One of them was bound to spill the beans out of pure stupidity when the cops came around. Yes, it was a good time for him to take a vacation.

He told Devil he was going down to Memphis to talk to Hot Rod and left him in charge of the gang. Devil puffed with pride and assured him everything would quote “run right ‘round here.” Boyd figured at least one of them would be dead by the time he got back. Probably Dewey.

Boyd met Dean at Johnny’s bar, deserted this early in the morning. Dean did have a nice car, it pulled up next to him with a rumble, the exterior shined despite the dusty roads. The passenger door creaked as he got in.

“Hello again, friend.” Boyd said. Dean raised an eyebrow at the form of address. “Where are we headed?”

“What you forgot already?” Dean pulled out of the parking lot, suddenly having reservations about bringing in an amateur.

“It was a conversational start. I’ll begin again. Have you eaten breakfast yet? I have not There is good restaurant in Corbin with decent prices.” Boyd gave him his most amiable smile. Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

“They got bacon?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

“Fine, just give me directions.” Dean said.

“It’ll be a while before you need to turn. Why are these suicides suspicious?” Boyd asked.

“One every other day.”

“Anything else?”

“Not that I was told, we’ll have to start investigating when we arrive.”

“I’ll follow your lead.” Boyd said.

“Right.” Dean muttered suddenly wondering what he needed to teach Boyd. Dean had been so young he hardly remembered how he was trained. For Sam it was more the physical aspects of the job that he needed to learn. Sam was a natural at the book stuff. Boyd wasn’t Sam and he wasn’t a scared little kid.

“Do you know how to use a gun?” Dean asked. Boyd just stared at him evenly, blinking occasionally. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Turn here.” Boyd finally said. After a few more turns they came to a diner with a red room and a neon sign that told them it was open. The diner was crowded for breakfast.  Dean was forced to park in between two dusty pickups. They walked in and a bell twinkled to announce their arrival and they took a seat by the window. The menus were laminated and slightly sticky.

“So how is your brother? Still in school I presume?” Boyd said, not even looking at the menu.

“He’s fine.”

“Is he home for the summer?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“I should have found someone less chatty.” Dean glared.

“Wisconsin is an awful long ride.”

Dean said nothing. The waitress came to take their order. Boyd turned his attention to her and ordered bacon and eggs, sunny side up. Dean ordered pancakes and bacon and pie.

“So how does your father feel about your brother being away from home so long?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Would you prefer if I talked about myself?”

“I would prefer you to shut up and let me eat in peace.”

The silence lasted through breakfast. The food was pretty amazing and Dean made sure to remember the address, just in case he was in the area again. Dean thought he was out of the woods and Boyd wouldn’t ask him anymore personal questions. Boyd waited patiently until they were on the road again, trapped in the car. 

“So how did your family get into the hunting business?”

“Damn it, quit sticking your nose in my personal life.”

“You can ask me questions.” Boyd offered, “I’m an open book.” Boyd smiled with all his shiny white teeth. Dean narrowed his eyes at him.

“Okay fine, what do you do for a living, you seem shifty.” Dean hoped asking the man about his illegal activities would shut him up, no such luck.

“Well, I robbed a bank on Monday.” Boyd said casually as if it was a regular occurrence for him.

“Shit, really? Why?” Dean blurted. Boyd didn’t seem fazed.

“I don’t always stick with any one “profession” you might say.”

“Jesus, why don’t you get a real job?” Dean said.

“And you work 9 to 5 in an office.” Boyd said pointedly.

“I help people.” Dean said grinding his teeth.

“I suppose that’s true.”  When AC/DC’s “Back in Black” came on Boyd reached over and turned off the cassette player before returning to his position staring out the window.

“Dude, Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”  Dean said as he turned the music back on and cranked up the volume. It was going to be a long ride to Wisconsin.


End file.
